


So Far To Fall

by SapphireNight



Category: Beauty and the Beast (2017)
Genre: 'After the film-end' fic with a twist, (can be seen as more), Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Later graphic descriptions of injury/pain, Lefou/Gaston Friendship, Magic, Not an 'Enchantress offers Redemption' fic, Possible Character Death (cannon), Resurrection, Serious Injuries, Set after the great battle, light humour
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-02
Updated: 2017-05-31
Packaged: 2018-10-26 22:12:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10795785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SapphireNight/pseuds/SapphireNight
Summary: “You… you’ve come to tell me about Gaston, haven’t you? That he’s…?”After the final battle, everyone was restored to what they were before, and restored what they’d lost. However, Belle and the Prince know that Gaston will never return. The Prince, having learnt humility, orders the body to be recovered, and Belle is left to break the news to the only one left to mourn him.Trouble is, when they recover the body, they discover that not all is as it seems. For the man who fell so far may not yet have hit the ground.This is NOT an ‘Enchantress gives Gaston a second chance’ fic, but something slightly different! Cannon ships, Lefou/Gaston friendship only (though you can read it deeper if you want). First chapter rated PG (K+), subsequent ones 12 (T).





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for clicking on and hopefully reading this fic! I really do hope you enjoy! It’s going to be a relatively short story- I’ve not yet decided the final outcome but it wont be more than a half-dozen chapters. It’s as much an exploration of characterisation as it is of external plot. Some of it will be quite dark, in terms of serious injuries- please do appreciate the rating any younger readers. There is some interspersed light humour to give it a little balance (how can you not with the likes of Josh Gad in the mix) so it’s not all just a dark depressing drone, but it’s not going to be a tea-party. It’s designed to be a hard-hitting fic. With a touch of humour thrown in.  
> It’s highly cemented in the latest film- I’ve tried to make everything as realistic as possible and as such, very in-character. Lefou/Gaston friendship/bromance only (though you can read it deeper if you want- its written to be wholly in line with the film, so if you see more there then you’re free to here. However, there will be no developing ‘obvious’ romance.)  
>   
> Also, I’m aware in literary versions the Beast’s given name is ‘Adam’, however as I’ve come to this straight from being a film fan (and also an Adam Lambert fic writer) using that name feels very weird and uncomfortable for me. I’ve stuck with a more Disney type of referring to him as ‘The Prince’ or former ‘Beast’ in my story, until such a time as he introduces himself! I hope seasoned fic readers aren't too put off!  
>   
> Finally, a disclaimer. Nothing belongs to me, other than this original story idea. All characters, settings and references belong to Disney and the historical french tale, the film’s creative team and to the actors who most recently brought them to life.

The Prince was a changed man. He smiled, he hugged his servants who had been stuck with him these past turbulent years, he even came down to openly greet and welcome the villagers who had appeared, suddenly remembering their other halves and the family they had been left without. He had leant something of kindness and humility. And as the first wave of hugs and elation grew comfortable and still, the prince stepped back and pulled his steward aside.

“Lumiere, I need you to take a couple of men and search the grounds immediately surrounding the West Wing. After he… shot me, the castle began to crumble. Gaston fell from one of the high parapets. I need you to bring back the body.”

The servant raised an eyebrow at him, mildly impressed at the marked display of humanity.

“No matter what he did to me or the people here, he deserves a proper burial, surrounded by the people who loved him.”

“Of course. Right away, master.”

“Lumiere- take him to the small antechamber behind the main wing and lay him out there. The ladies don't need to see this. ”

Lumiere nodded and took his leave.

Standing alone at the back of the noisy, crowded hall, the prince let the moments of solitary silence fall over him. He didn’t quite know how or why he had made the decision to recover the body. He knew of course it was the honourable thing to do, the gentlemanly thing as a vanquisher of your foe. But in times passed the thought that there was even a body out there wouldn’t have crossed his mind. It wasn't even a leftover instinct from his father, the previous ruler. _He_ would have callously let the body be, for its loved ones to stumble across.

Still, other than being a former soldier and an unnervingly accurate marksman, the former beast knew nearly nothing about the man who had so recently tried to kill him. Nothing, except recognising the hate and anger in the man’s heart as vividly as when the Enchantress held up that damned mirror to him the first time. It seemed faintly implausible for a rage-filled soul like that to even have friends; to have maybe had a family who respected and cared for him, but he knew that couldn't be the case. He had come from a small village. He had been a well respected officer and soldier; he’d had standing. A whole army of villagers don't just follow anyone into a rage-filled attack on a mysterious castle. He’d had prestige. He’d had people.

Still in reverie, the prince caught sight of his betrothed ambling amongst the crowd.

“Belle, may I have a word?”

The way her young, bright face would light up in recognition and smile - it caught in his chest. She came over immediately, the people around her already lost in their own conversations.

“Belle, I’ve sent Lumiere out to check the grounds, and retrieve… well, retrieve the body. I need to ask you, who were Gaston’s friends? Did he have family nearby, or a woman? Is there anyone who I need to give the news to personally, before it becomes common knowledge?” He eyed the swarms of chattering people. “The townsfolk may be distracted now, but it wont take them long to remember who led them here in the first place.”

Belle nodded, her face sober.

“I don't think he had any family in Villeneuve- he’s always lived here alone, but I think they might have been taken by plague before Father and I arrived. No woman either, though plenty of admirers.” She cringed, remembering the numerous attempts he’d made at courtship. “He was pretty popular throughout the village as a whole- but then again owning the tavern might have had something to do with it.”

She sighed, her eyes casting over the crowd of reuniting townsfolk. One solitary figure, weaving from group to group but not ever staying with any of them, brought a heavy weight to her chest.

“No, I think there’s really only one who was truly close with him.”

Her eyes met his again briefly before she moved away, drifting gracefully towards where the lone townsperson had finally stopped to hover. He turned as she approached, suddenly looking hopeful. Belle hated the way his eyes lit up in recognition. They soon jaded.

“Lefou?”

He nodded respectfully, painfully.

“You… you’ve come to tell me about Gaston, haven't you? That he’s…?”

Belle couldn’t stop the guilty glance backwards at the prince.

“Do you want to come back here where it’s a little quieter?”

Lefou nodded and smiled miserably as they lead him away, his head hanging even as his eyes began to fill. They returned to the same little side space the Prince had spoken with Lumiere. As they stopped and turned round, Lefou appeared solemn but composed, save for the tears now freely staining his face.

“It’s alright. I figured it out.” His eyes roamed unhappily across the crowds of happy, human people. “Miracles don't just happen without some sort of… event. And Gaston… ” He broke off, voice suddenly horse. “You’re going to tell me he’s dead; Gaston is dead, isn't he?”

Belle reached out and touched his upper arm.

“Lefou, I’m so sorry. I know the two of you were close.”

It seemed to be the final break in his resolve. He began wiping at his eyes and face self consciously.

“I don’t even know why I’m crying. It’s not like he meant that much to me; I mean, we were only friends.”

Belle nodded, but didn’t say anything. She looked over at the Prince uncertainly, willing him to pitch in. He shrugged. 

She quickly rounded back to Lefou. “It was quick, if that helps.”

“He fell. From a great height.” he added stoutly. Belle shot him a look.

Lefou choked a laugh, tilting his head and scratching at a sideburn.

“‘Fell from a great height’. Well, if that’s not just the way every man wants to go. Tripping over his own feet on the battlements. Not exactly a hero’s death.” He laughed, humourlessly, before it died away. “ _Fell from a great height._ You don't know just how true that is.” he whispered.

The young woman shuffled uncomfortably.

“Well, it wasn’t _exactly_ like he just fell,” the baritone voice mumbled. “There was a certain amount of combat and gunfire involved.”

Belle cleared her throat but Lefou, however, clung to the information like a lifeline.

“He died in battle, then? He would have wanted that.”

“Oh yes! He died in battle; a manly, protracted fight with guns and knives and… that sort of thing.”

Belle turned full on to him and glared.

“ _Lots and lots of guns_ …” he murmured in an undertone.

If ever there was a moment Belle wished the ground would just open up and swallow them whole, now was it. The prince of course was completely ignorant, but Lefou was taking onboard his every word as a stalwart tribute to his friend’s last moments. She could see him soaking up the information, processing. The Prince shifted, scratching at his calf with the toe of the other polished boot, and right before her eyes she saw it happen. Lefou turned his gaze back to the other man and begun studying his face with a profound, dark realisation.

The ground didn’t open up. The castle had been fully healed; there was nothing left to collapse.

Instead, commotion broke into the great hall as two men came barrelling through, one stopping and doubling back towards Père Robert, grabbing him by the shoulders. A moment or two later they both ran out of sight into the bowels of the castle.

The other ran straight up to the Prince, blessedly interrupting the three of them. Lumiere was out of breath, panicked, and utterly dishevelled for his formal attire, but he took the Prince by a shoulder and forcibly turned him away from the other two, murmuring in his ear.

“Master- we found him, we found the body, but—”

He broke off, gasping for breath.

“But what? What is it, Lumiere?”

“It’s— He’s—”

The steward’s eyes were wide, trying to force air into his lungs.

“ _He’s not dead.”_

The Prince broke away, horror draining his face.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for how long it’s been since chapter one. I redrafted this several times and it never felt right, and then came the horrific events of Monday the 22nd and the world just seemed to… stop. My deepest love and sympathies to everyone who’s been affected, be it directly or indirectly, by the Manchester attack. Keep your strength and your heart; the way Manchurians have responded by uniting with love and compassion has been inspirational.
> 
> Big thanks for reading, and especially to those who left reviews and/or kudos!
> 
> Further AN’s at the bottom, but for now, enjoy!

_Recap_ :

The other man ran straight up to the Prince, blessedly interrupting the three of them. Lumiere was out of breath, panicked, and utterly dishevelled for his formal attire, but he took the Prince by a shoulder and forcibly turned him away from [Belle and Lefou], murmuring in his ear.

“Master- we found him, we found the body, but—” He broke off, gasping for breath.

“But what? What is it, Lumiere?”

“It’s— He’s—”

The steward’s eyes were wide, trying to force air into his lungs.

“He’s not dead.”

The Prince broke away, horror draining his face.

*~*~*

For a split moment, the world seemed to freeze. Ice trickled down his neck, palpitating his heart and nerve endings. It wasn't real, wasn’t possible. For a split second, the Prince stood dumbfounded as the words caught up to him. _He’s not dead._ The horror and shock on Lumiere’s face he knew was a perfect mirror of his own. 

Then, a second later, the world began moving again.

“What do you mean, ‘he’s not dead’? He fell- from the very top of the castle. I heard the impact; there’s no possible way—”

“And yet he still draws breath.” Lumiere insisted. He paused to gather himself, letting his breathing calm and restore. 

“ _Oui,_ _c’est impossible_ , I agree. But the fact remains, the man is still alive.”

“That _beast_ is not a man, he’s a monster!” the Prince gruffly thundered, trying to keep his voice low as Belle and Lefou were not far behind them but drawing a few glances none the less.

“Yes… and yet until recently, a lot of people would have said the same about you. I mean no disrespect, Master,” Lumiere continued, as the Prince looked suitably cowed, “But it changes matters not. He fell. The man has been gravely injured, and his condition is serious. I need to know what you’d have us do.” 

The words _‘he is not dead yet- but he’s not far from it’_ were left hanging in the air.

The Prince did not answer. He rocked backwards weightily, a heavy, haunted look casting over his handsome features.

“He shot me,” he eventually said, the words slow and tortured. “In the back. Repeatedly.” He watched as Lumiere’s face drained of colour.

“Do I have the humanity enough to tell you to care for him? Or would saying ‘put him out of his misery’ be purely in cold blood?”

Lumiere’s face was grave, but he offered him a sympathetic smile. “I cannot tell you what you should do. We have lived for so long as but animated objects, locked away from the world, nothing we did ever really mattered- we were simply trying to _return_. But now the world has found us again. You may yet have to prove that you are once again human. That doesn't mean the past never happened, but be sure it is the man who makes the decision. Not the Beast.” 

He paused, his voice growing soft. “His injuries are significant. I do not know how he survived, but it is likely he will not do so for long. Whatever you decide to do… it better be soon.”

The Prince remained deep in thought for several moments, absorbing his advisors words. His emotions and instincts clashed like the Beast he once was, the self-righteous piety of ‘what was right’ locking horns with what was _needed._

Finally, the Prince’s eyes locked back on Lumiere.

“Take me to him,” he said.

Just at that moment Belle’s beautiful voice rang out from behind them.

“Is everything alright? You look worried.”

The Prince blinked at her in shock, his thoughts ripped away from their dark contemplations. Lumiere cleared his throat.

“If I may? _Cherie_ , I was sent to recover Gaston’s body from the grounds. Whilst there, we came across a …somewhat shocking discovery, which I’ve just brought to the Prince’s attention.”

“‘Shocking discovery’?” She blanched. “My god, did you find someone else? Has someone else died?”

Lumiere looked towards the Prince awkwardly, unsure how to answer given how much she had already been through. She displayed such strength and resilience- yet how could he lumber her with _this_ sort of information?

The Prince gently took her by the arms and brought her in toward him.

“Gaston is still alive. He somehow survived the fall,” he said quietly. The blood drained from her face just as surely as it had his.

“I don’t… how… What are you going to do?” she questioned, voice light with trepidation. The Prince took a heavy breath.

“I don’t know. I need to see him for myself.”

“Are you going to—”

“ _I don’t know!_ ” he all but roared, before calming. “I need to see what the damage is, before I decide.” 

He glanced over her shoulder. Lefou was hovering where she’d left him, his face pensive with grief.

“Tell the companion a lie. Tell him we need to get the body ready. I need space to think, and I can’t afford to have any… distractions.”

When Belle opened her mouth to complain, he placed his fingers lightly over her lips.

“He does not need uncertainty, nor to see me struggle with my deliberation. Once I know what I’m going to do, he can see the body. But I need to know what I’m dealing with. Besides, it may very well be that seeing the man so broken would donothing but hurt him.”

Belle felt something unknown clench in her chest.

“You believe he is that bad?”

The Prince exchanged another glance with the steward, but it was Lumiere who gently took hold of her hand.

“ _Oui,_ ” he whispered. 

Belle slowly nodded, and with that, the Prince and Lumiere took their leave. She turned back to Lefou and brought her arm out towards him, turning him away from the retreating men.

~*~

They walked through the long corridors in silence, the Prince’s mind ablaze.

_He’s not dead_. The words rang inside his skull like a gunshot. _He’s not dead._ All logic said it couldn't possibly be true, and yet it was. The thought sickened him. Brought bile to his throat, scraped raw the vestiges of hurt, worry and anger. The man had tried to kill him- had actually succeeded, but he knew that he too had fallen. Belle had told him so. He’d heard the _thud_ , even in his own dying agony. Felt that moment of shameful relief even as his life was leaving him. 

And then he’d remember the pain and despair he’d felt as each lead shot had torn through his body. _He’s not dead._ And now he’d be face to face with that man once more.

The thought frightened him.

From Lumiere’s report he knew Gaston wasn't a threat. Any man who had fallen the height of a building and had somehow survived was no longer a danger to anyone, but the notion of confronting him again filled him with unease. What was he going to feel when he saw his invariably broken body? Delight? Gratification? _Sympathy_? Would his hatred and anger overcome him? Was he really still just that beast he’d spent so many years as, even in human form?

He knew rationally he was justified in his feelings. The man had attacked him, had attacked the castle and placed all its residents in danger, and yet on some level it felt like an excuse. The Devil’s excuse, Satin’s justification. Gaston had very nearly sentenced them all to eternal damnation simply with his mere _timing_ \- and yet who was it that was responsible for bringing the curse down on them all in the first place?

The thing which really worried him though, was the thought that he might even feel compassion for the broken man. Would he feel horror at seeing another mans agony like any other human would, or just cold satisfaction at his enemy’s suffering? Which was worse? He wanted to prove so dearly that he wasn’t just a vicious monster, yet the thought of the human response frightened him. Gaston was broken, dying. Should he feel remorse for how things had turned out? Remorse for a killer? Or was the Beast really still only just under the surface?

As they turned a final corner, he realised they would soon see.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not a lot of humour in this chapter, but I think you can understand why. It will be returning shortly, it’s just hard finding opportunity for humour in a space all about emotional shock. 
> 
> Also, just want to reassure you with this chapter being Prince-centric, focus will return to the other characters too, don't worry. There will be some brilliant Prince & Gaston moments imminently, with Lefou & Gaston upcoming too. Belle also hasn't had time to fully register everything- what will she make of her former admirer’s current situation?
> 
> Apologies also for this being a slightly shorter chapter. I was intending on ending with walking in on Gaston, but I need to get his condition right beforehand. There’s a very fine balance of getting his condition and injuries accurate/realistic, with figuring out the level of magical healing that had happened (it should have been a fatal fall, don't forget!) and also being dramatic with the degree of injury but not too overwhelming that it becomes gore and horror. Quite a fine line!
> 
> Hopefully not as long a wait for chapter three. Thanks very much for reading!


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